A – Sexy D is for Dating Zone part 2
I know that to some it sounds harsh and that some people will travel to the ends of the earth to find love but not me my precious. Because after some painful experiences I just don’t believe in long distance relationships anymore. Yes zone 3 is too far for me and I’m sticking to my zone 1 or 2 rule like this black woman to the last pack of Haribos in Waitrose. Trust me I would wrestle a 5 year old and win. No shame.
It may sound as if I’m limiting myself unnecessarily and missing out on the delights that places like Tottenham, Harlesden, Croydon and Deptford have to offer but to be honest I think that there is only so much a girl can do for love.
The rules are simple:
- 45 minutes from door to door. As it takes me 20 minutes to get to the tube station (music selection can make it 15) that leaves 25 minutes to get to yours including a slow walk in heels. No flat shoes please.
- If cabs are being paid for from your budget (my accountant has clearly stated I can’t claim these as business expenses despite lengthy discussion on dating being research) then it is still 45 minutes door to door.
- The journey must be able to be done in 45 minutes by car AND by public transport for it to warrant being granted a Dating Zone license.
- These rules are for dating and not for a relationship where you may need to consider that a commute is really just you going to your country home. You’ll have stuff there, right? If not then you’re still only dating and best you grab your purse and run, chick!
So this is why I don’t date outside of 45 minutes
When I was younger I commuted a lot for work. This was not your normal London 60-90 minute commute, no my job took me to all sorts of weird and not so wonderful places around the United Kingdom. I have stepped in more manure than any city girl should have to for the sake of work. As I didn’t think it was appropriate to arrive at meetings with my own electric blanket, pillow and onesie it got to the point where I was travelling up to 8 hours a day for a one to two hour meeting. Sometimes it was shorter when the idiots purposefully sent the wrong person for the meeting. Besides hotels are boring if you don’t have someone to bounce on the bed with. So when I get home the last thing I want to do is hope on that bus, tube, bus combo to go see a man for over 45 minutes for what is sometimes no more than mediocre sex. I will however show and go 10 minutes to a bar on the Kings Road.
2) False sense of dating
Once you have arrived at your date’s house there is now pressure for you to either have sex quickly so that you can make the last tubes home or worse, you have to stay over. I find staying over happens prematurely in relationships in London. Yes I guess I should learn how to drive but then you have to park, not drink and worry about some of the areas you are parking in. I saw those dodgy men at the top of the estate and they don’t eye up a black cab the way they eye up the car of a single woman tottering towards a 14th storey flat in heels that aren’t good for chasing them down in. Besides sometimes I don’t want to stay over. I want to be in my own bed with my own comforts. Sue me we’re dating I’m allowed to want space right? This isn’t a male only emotion right? Ok let’s move on.
I work from home and sometimes like now I don’t even have to get out of bed so by the time I get to anywhere that takes me more than an hour I’m exhausted and promptly want to go to bed and not in a good way. It’s that commuter fatigue that comes from the walking around tube stations fighting old people and blonde women (I find blondes unusually aggressive) for that final spare seat. So having to do this more than once a week just isn’t going to cut it I’m afraid. If you can survive on sex once a week then perhaps this dating thing isn’t going to work for us?
But wait, there is more. Part 2
© Chelsea Black